Die With Your Boots On
by Toby Cruz
Summary: I do not own the character Vess I pulled him from Dean Koont'z Intensity.
1. Chapter 1

Die with your boots on

Introduction

They called us soldiers, all competing for the better contract. I was the dragon of all these men; raged with fire running threw my veins. Inflicting more pain than one could fathum from the demons spear like teeth. Walking threw life with hatred against anyone that looked straight into my soul. I didn't keep anyone close, friends or enemies. I considered my glock my only friend, but enemies were many.

My life has been layered with guilt. Everyday I scream I was not there to save them. I continue to play it in my mind, praying to the god I no loner believed in that this was all a horrible dream. Somehow I could rewind and been there to change the out come. Like a clown I put on a show if it had a title it would be 'Vicious sacrifices.'

Some are addicted to it. An addiction so strong leaving you weak in the knees, spinning your whole body around savoring the sound of the firing bullet, the blood spilt. Having a orgasm without being touched or caressed . Some do it for the money. Every contract is worth thousands, each person blood worth more than another. The glory too spectacular to pass, having others speak of your name Others just do it. It is an eye for an eye I prey on those that can lead me closer to the truth. Those who are proud of their killings can not keep quiet about it, murdering an agent's family that is hunting for your kind is nothing to be ashamed about.

I was the game piece at the beginning of the line tumbling them all down one by one. Until I got to the last piece each would fall leading me to the man that stole my family. That day will come; I will bring him down just like all the rest on my twisted path. He will be my last domino to fall.

1

By the warmth of the sun light beating down on my skin I am normal; shooting in the range, researching on the computer, putting all the missing puzzle pieces back together; socializing with all the students learning to become Vess's new trusted soldier. When the sun retires as does all the population and I rise to complete another hellish night; another blood red vision coming true.

Seeking comfort in affirmative action taking the bastards life, he stole mine years ago. Everyday my lost wife face grows dim, five years later I can not believe it's hard to paint her perfect porcelin face in my head. Without looking at a picture her shy cheek bones, caring eyes are never perfect the way I see them. It cannot be because I think of her miserable decaying body under ground sealed to wake up and offer no escape. She lays motionless next to my two children with nothing but dirt and grass above them, asking mother 'where is daddy?' Explaining to children that daddy's mission is not done can be impossible; reading their sorrow and pain in the eyes of the innocent. 'Daddy will be home soon' was the last they heard and continue to hear over the continuim of five years. 'Soon baby soon' is the lullaby to sooth my babies to sleep. I will be with them soon enough, my reality drags me threw the dirt in anguish how long I have survived without them, but the religious preachers tell me even after five years later my loves are still meeting with Jesus. Not that this gives me comfort at night to sleep, but an excuse for my absense by taking so long to hold them in my arms again.

Enjoying the sweet bitterness of a Starbucks white chocolate mocha, pressing the plastic lid against my dry chapped lips with my right hand; resting my other wrist on the wheel gently stirring the truck west returning to what I have called home for the last five years. I could feel blood drying on my face from the single gunshot to the victims head; execution style. His name had been Michael; sharing the same DNA as the famous serial hitman **Marshall** I had put behind bars just months before my family had been brutally murdered. Hunting each lead, each motive to justice I crossed off Michael from my list of valuable information. He would be found in the morning by his mother returning from vacation in Hawaii; what a surprise she would discover just ten feet from entering the front door, seeing her only freedom bound son sprawled out on the floor, dead. I guess at least this discovery was after vacationing and not before, she was given time to enjoy herself and not mourning in another state.

Interrupted from silence and my bloody chocolate mocha my cell phone rang; glancing at the flashing light from the screen and keys I placed my coffee in the holder and picked up the call, "Hello?"

"I need status on Michael." The expected call was Vess.

"Deceased."

"How do you feel?"

"Dirty."

"I understand, this feeling will soon pass."

"As it always does."

"Business is not always pleasing Domino."

"Yes. I know."

"Return and clean up." Click. And the phone call was finished. The same as it always, short. Simple. Careless.

I brought the black ford F-150 to a stop reviewing my notes I had previously written down concerning the contract on Michael. Lurking in the shadows concentrating on his every move, every habit for weeks. He had dined in at a Mexican restaurant twice a week: alone. No leading ladies, no party life. Behavior as any bachelor; nothing similar to his brother that now sits on death row in California. He was not a geek revolving around video games and anime nor was his unpredictable bad looks going to land him a Hollywood model either. He wore his pin striped suit to discover card everyday seeking customers to receive more commission on. Just a good businessman. Michael had not met up with any member of the Mexican mafia or a drug dealer, he was receiving no other income like other criminals. A life of no career just scraping to help mommy pay for rent could not be pleasing, neither was killing a man with no motive. This contract had just been good business. Relieving a petty man of life.

Arriving at the gates of the firm security entrence the guards are familiar with my pickup truck. I stop for them to see my face on the night vision camera and wait for the gate to open.

Sipping at the last of my calmly warm coffee once more remembering my existence of terror. Still five years later I have gained no information that gives me closer or satisfaction. Every dime I have collected from each contract has sat in my bank account, receiving more bills than an A list actor could dream of in a single blockbuster hit movie. I spend nothing. An internet hacker could strike jackpot and it would neither upset or bring me to rage. I would trade it all for my life years ago, a life that brings a single smile to my face remember my pumpkins.

A click of the gate opening jerks me out of my own thoughts and regrets. I pull the truck forward into a garage that connects to the whole school. and I am welcomed by the men in black. Black baseball cap, shirt, jeans, shoes and gloves. "Welcome back Domino." A tall skinny pale man opens my door. I remember his mundayne face from other blood spilt nights. I turn off the engine and grab the remains of coffee. "Take care of her." I say as the three other men bring vacuums and other cleaning chemicals to erase all the evidence I have left behind.

"As always." I hear behind me. Exiting the garage and into the broiler room. The tempature is most often uncomfortable to my liking. I close the door and being to take off my shoes. Every tug of my shoe laces seems more difficult. The tile in warm against my bare feet. The warmth of the floor is coming from the fire oven twenty feet in front of me. I strip of all my belongings and toss them into the oven. I wish the night would disappear as fast as the evidence burns. To the right of the colossal oven is a closet were I retrieve my robe for the night. And enter the school threw the 'Hitmen only' area.

Arriving in the lounge center a hitman walking threw the steel black door the students are never oblivious to the world behond what they can see. They are aware of the contracts we are required to settle. Some of these potentials are asked to accompany a higher class hitman, but mostly for the reasons of retirement. Just two months prior the treason hitman known as **Spade **had a party in his honor. The night of singing and laughing, recognizing his bravery from a warrior game on the video game console the Wii. It is not an unlucky fate for a retiring hitman to end the dance, as some say it is dieing with grace. These men receive contracts on keeping Vess's community safe. The students are welcome to join in the party, bringing gifts to the new potential to help with his new lifelong terror career. When the sun fades behind the mountains and the moons calls for the hitman's soul to join the forever glowing stars above these naïve students must return to there dorms and wait for the single gun shot that reverberates threw out the black night. As Vess's famous words sink into my soul; "Now starts a new era."

"The duck is out of the oven!" The sound of the first potential Mick's voice reflected off the walls and over the sound of a Bruce Willis action flick. This code indicated to the Head Master I was home. Another head count of the celebrity like hitmen.

Heavy foot steps from boots hitting the tile came from the hall way. Without second questioning myself I knew the footsteps belonged to Vess. His six foot muscular body appeared from the hallway. His sure-fire ward robe would never be astray from a black collared shirt and black slacks accompanied with pale black hardcore boots. With lethal black hair probably shaven with the clipper number four he used got to be glued to spike his ageless mane. With no laugh lines or smoker wrinkles his face was surprisenly not dull. His immaculate skin purified with face wash; pores closed tight with astringent. He approached as a confident gentleman, with a mixture of strutness and gliding in his stride, with his arms never swaying too much, but not stern as a military soldier. It was neither a walk in the park or a march to impress the students of his huge status of head master and of course receiving the award for most wanted contract; not just for glory but for a stack of bills only consisting of hundreds. Vess took the gold of other hitmen wanting his head outside of these walls. But the frightening fact of survival was just an amiable game. To him every experience and every sensation was worth while. To me I could not wrap my mind around how the painful experience of being shot with blood rushing for freedom could get the man off, but I was not being paid to question the mans crazy masturbation with no contact presumptions.

"Welcome back soldier." Vess said reaching for my bloody freshly painted face, smearing the red goodness onto his finger tips. Welcoming the vital fluid onto his tongue savoring the taste of the once forever flowing gore from the victims body. "A positive." He said with a bit of cockiness. Not caring to question him I stood un amused. Bringing my eyes to his, a smirk escaped from his gently shaped lips. "By the pattern of impact of gore on your face the blood came from below your head, Michael had about three inches on you," he paused for a moment ever so gently bringing his neatly groomed fingers to my chin turning my head to the left and carefully examining my neck. "Ah Domino." Sounding disappointed in the work performed tonight. "Flinching at the moment of impact, closing your eyes and not seeing the crime scene explode. Do you do it because you think God only sees what you pay attention to? Maybe if consciously you do not witness it then you did not really kill Michael?"

"I killed an innocent man tonight."

"No man is more innocent than the first, blood split is not blood wasted. I gave you a lead, give those old FBI agent habits a rest. Bring destruction to your surface and first nature."


	2. Chapter 2

2

Caressing his fine structured chin while reviewing the stacks of paper on the cherry wood desk. Infurating the man the clutter these contracts took up to much space. Avoiding his office, avoiding the mess. But the fact was inevitable he needed to prepare to settle the contracts. Continually contemplating on which contract killer to give each particular one to Vess's breathing began to grow heavy. The price to pay for a little chaos was an extreme obsessive compulsive disorder a therapist years ago had called it. As much as he tried to calm his nervous the most irritated he became. Bringing both hands to his face rubbing and clenching his jaw. The contracts poured in before he released the first stack. He needed more potentials trained, more soldiers. More cleanslyness. Before exiting the room from the chaos Vess stood from his chair; with one jolt from his arm he pushed all the contracts, MacBook and lamp from his desk. The sound of the boisterous crash brought Domino strutting in the door. It had probably made the students jump out of their seat for the school was mostly quiet and peaceful.

I entered Vess's office where the noise shattered threw out the house. He was cocked in front of the wood chair, over looking the chaos in the office he had just created.

"Cleansly ness is next to godliness." I spoke in a calm sarcastic tone.

He eyes met mine, he did not take kindly to my remark. "Mick will accompany you on the next hit." Vess said searching threw the scattered papers."

"Yeah, about that. I work alone."

"Not this time, Domino." Still unable to raise his eyes to mine, "He is the potential we have, he has completed every class, every training with great promise."

"Then send him out."

"I can not risk the security of other potentials with him leaving a trail because I failed to train him properly. You know as well as I do there is a difference between book smart and criminal smart. A rush of taking a humans life is a rush and until experienced even the highest potentials do not know what to do with that adrenaline."

"Then have someone else do it."

Picking a paper out of the pile from his scavenger hunt and returning my stare. "You are the best Domino."

"Brown nosing is not going to change my mind." Between the distance from him desk to me near the door as he approached I discovered something in his eyes something I had never seen before. More than five years knowing this man it was shocking and frightful. At first I thought it was super natural, focusing on it lead me to believe that is impossible. He walked, talked and pissed the same as I do he is human just as I am. I knew by the paper in his hand it was another murder, I was not sure who it would be this time. I knew how to react to this, but to his eyes made me want to turn around and run threw the office door. This man I had worked over five years for had no soul.

Extending his arm with the new hit gripped between two fingers; I didn't want to leave the man hanging I respected the offer and took the paper in my hands. Stamped with Vess's signature to verify authenticity **Duke Harvey **was signed under the 'target' letters. "Am I suppose to recognize this name?"

"He was my business partner years ago. We are the ones that started this school. He had put out a contract on you while you continued to burry yourself deeper into our government. Marshall was the potential he trained, when you caught him he had signed the contract. Before you lived here we went our separate ways and it became a rivalry. His location has just surface."

"Help me understand your gimmick. You want me to waste someone because business went sour between your secret butt fucking days?" Enraging my self; almost shouting at the calm mannered Vess I have always known.

"No. I never seen that contract Domino. I do not know who took it, I am thinking whoever killed your family intended to kill you that night. The hitman came to a panic. Duke never allowed the soldier into the house until his mission was complete. If the hitman had blood on his close and body . ."

I raised an arm to quiet him, I understood. "Yeah, I get it."

"Now that I have your attention. Duke knew what you looked like as a FBI agent, and you don't look a lot different Domino. If he survives this contract, he will find you and kill you. He is just as powerful as me. Don't strut your manliness. This is a very dangerous mission Domino. If you are detected for entering you will probably not make it out. The only advice I can give you is: Do not flinch."


	3. Chapter 3

3-

Fear. Was this emotion I am feeling fear? Each hit in the past has never lead me to the feeling like this. This particular hit was an A list contract. All other Hitmen would die for this specific contract. I drove the truck down Bangader Highway speechless with Mick in the passenger seat. From the smell of his energy he was excited. He was too naïve to tell this hit is dangerous, and he may not return to his safe real fur blankets tonight.

As the truck cruised closer to the school of Duke my heart began to race. As an FBI agent I could not bring enough evidence against Vess to prosacute him. Feeling alone and unprepared I had some sort of doubt I would not be returning, alive.

As my usual detour I took a left hand turn on 3100 south and made my way up to Starbucks. My sixth senses needed to be at top notch in order to destroy Duke.

"So, what's the plan here tonight?" Mick said turning his body toward me. Uncomfortable with the silence I understood the corny conversation starter.

"Stay in the truck." I said grimly.

"Fuck that shit. I wanna do this. Vess said I get to do in with you."

"I am not leaving my life in your hands, maybe next time."

"You're the hitter, so that would make my life in your hands." I could sense his sense of humor.

"You can't even grasp how dangerous this hit is, why would I let a comedian and his jokes come?"

"What if you need back up?"

"What are you going to do shoot him with a racist joke?" Sarcasticly not joking around.

The snow crunched beneath my boots as I approached the gates. I carried a .45 semi automatic in my right hand. Also equipped with two .9mm in shoulder hostlers. And the famous cowboy revolver resting on each side of my hips for the guaranteed stand off.

The house was quite similar to Vess's, I didn't approach threw the garage or the student entrance I continued my journey to the back. A small hole hidden by dead rose bushes caught my attention. Uncomfortable but the only available entrance I have. An awkward jump to a sixty degree angle made it difficult to be silent, but not impossible with my height.

The man hole like a mini boots camp, challenging myself to travel in no space without being detected. With the back of the house being the safe spot for general to reside my journey would not be too far. His suite was in the first vent I came to. Sliding a razor between the metal and drywall; using my gun as torque to pry the vent off the structure it was built.

Duke lived his life well, his suit was twice as big and decorative as Vess's. A plasma television was mounted on the wall. Two leather couches occupying one corner of the room along with two lion sculpture tables. The carpet had been replaced with real fur of some animal with a brown mane and blonde highlights. The man had kept busy over the last few years only two contracts stood on the steel desk. One that read the name Robert Hansen. Never seeing eye to eye pyshical evidence a contract for the man I worked for. The one I was getting paid to protect. The contract was for Vess.

Appalled by the paper to slow the perpatraitor down I folded it and placed it in my pocket. A sudden movement in my periferal vision intrigued my attention and looked toward the object when a blunt object stroke me in my left temple. The floor that seemed so far away stopped my fall. It was hard and excruciating. Ignoring the pain I tried to climb to my feet I could not have the disadvantage of being lower than the attacker. Dizziness over came me, trying to balance my body to stay up right.

The attackers knees came rushing to my midsection; trying to bring my arm up to defend the blow, the sectors in my brain would not connect to my physical motions. Knocked off balance the furry ground became too familiar. The butt of the attackers of what appeared to be a nail gun came rushing to my head. It hit once. Then again. Blood escaping from my wounds; I could feel it roll down my forehead. I became temporally blind from the gore pouring itself into my eyes.

"I have heard many tales about you Domino." A deep heavy weight voice came from the tall shadow. "I don't know if I should be star struck or furious you would dare come into my home and try and attack me."

Darkness was coming quick; shaking it off with all the energy I had I began to crawl away from the man. "I guess I just have that affect on people."

I heard footsteps near my head, I could not see the man but I could sense his presence. "And where do you think your going." A settle jolting sound came from his gun as I felt something pierce the thin flesh on my right hand. Without control I let out a painful cry. The light of the moon began to dim and I lost conc ousness.


	4. Chapter 4

4-

The front door swung open and slammed shut. The foot steps accelerated from the hall. Before Vess could sit up from the leather couch Mick entered fear was obvious from the emotion on his face. "They sent me with a message." He froze five feet from the door. Vess cocked his eyebrow up, knowing the words streaming from Mick's mouth he was refuring to Duke. "Come and save him." His voice raising "They have Domino!"

Bringing his hands to the gently shaven face Vess did not lose control. Mick seen another gentleman rise from a chair in Vess's computer chair. It was Vess's mentor Martin. He had his doctorate in psychology and Masters' degree in business consulting. Both men aware of the urgency in Mick's voice; silence lost in decision management. The energy in the room grew cold; Mick looks from Vess to Martin, Martin to Vess. "I'll take care of it." A relief sigh came from Mick as he left the office.

Carefully arranging the papers on the desk from biggest to small Vess began to sweat from his nervousness. "Your going to go, aren't you?"

Pausing for a slight moment Martin knew he was not thinking of an answer, still trying to decide he knew Vess's mind was already set hearing the first words from Micks' mouth. "Yes."

"You have not went out on a hit in years." Objecting to the idea.

Bringing his attention from the papers and toward Martin. "I must. Duke is all that is left in the Oath."

"Not following."

"Duke and I started this school. We knew of Dominos' potential. We made an Oath and did everything possible to get him here. Once Dominos' family was killed and he was enraged I dismissed all who were involved to keep the Oath sacred. If I do not go Duke will confess the Oath and Domino will destroy me." Placing his hands on the desk and applying his pshycial weight against it' he finished the sentence: "Not out of money, but out of rage. For once Domino will not flinch."

"Duke wants you dead he could have already confessed." Trying to talk reasonable to the head master.

"No, Duke wants to be the one to have my head. He wouldn't risk Domino killing me first. He knows I am the only hitman here powerful enough to face him."

"You are no where near ready to face another head master. You have not trained. Hell all you do is sit on that leather couch and talk about yourself." Being more flustered than Vess he pointed to the leather couch Vess had risen from.

"I will not be it intimidated by Duke's threat, you know I do not respond well."

"You don't respond well to anything unless you are talking about yourself."

Vess buttoned the middle round black plastic on his suit jacket. He was not relaxed anymore, his adrenaline was pumping threw his veins. Five years ago him and Duke went on the last hit he would need to participate in. It was not a hit on Domino but a contract to enrage the man. Vess had approached Domino at an Italian restaurant offering the FBI agent a job no other man had declined before. With a pause before the simply 'no' Vess knew Domino had contemplated the thought and that's all Vess needed to ensure killing the mans family would come to Vess for help to seek revenge. "The government created religion to keep the average person living in fear." Vess begun. "Everyone knows anything above mans' law is gods' law. If every religious person knew they would be burned in hell for eternal life instead of living in a cage for fourty five years our crime rate would not be as low as it is today."

"And this is relevant to Domino?"

"I am not one of those people, I do not fear god. Contracts come in and I send people out to get the job done. I am the one attending to their wants and needs. Subconciously these people think because they are not doing the crime god will not judge them. When a contract comes in I do not ask the customer and why will we be killing your wife today? I take the contract as it is. I do not fear god or man. Everything can be bought for the right price; I paid for Domino and I will not release him."

"You killed his family."

"Not everyone can be bought for pennies and dimes. I bought him out of anger. His love was too deep to resist revenge."

"You speak of what you do not know." With a deep british accent hung his head low as to missing one he loved.

"I'm a soldier not a monster Martin. I had loved once; and you speak of this to no one understand?"

"Yes." Still far away in a memory trance.

"Long before any of this, before my obsession to create another world man could escape and be free of any sin. Before any contract a woman tried to save me from this fate. She knew what I was and what I could become. But like any homosapian she could not understand my work. As an intelligent creature we all seek one thing and one thing only; love. She could not understand I was not this creature but a relative of god. As though living in fear was better than a life I could provide for her. She was gone. After that I swore to myself, never get to close. All women do is weaken your heart."

"Many women do not condone murder." He was set astray from the path he had once known, love. The human race often does not know how to handle their own inner struggles and pain so they rebel against all they have taught and believed in. Love is like a drug, you become addicted to it, and once lost you spiral out of control. Without with drug the world has a dark cloud around it and nothing can satisfy your needs. You search everywhere for it, and with no luck of receiving it your whole body becomes numb and you live on yours knees instead of your feet.

"I killed my parents at age nine. And my grandmother shortly after that. I was always attending to their needs. Slaving away to clean their house. I was not a child I was consieved to become a personal slave. So I killed them. I was no going to attend to her needs of being loved."

"Deep down, Vess, you want to be loved. Giving out these contracts for everyone else's needs. You enjoying the feeling of being needed. You are contributing your loyalty in a different way. All these people need you to kill and you like that feeling. You are in love with attending peoples needs. And as a lovers that is what you do; you just need to switch your energy from contracts to a women, and you could make a fine lover." Martin thought he had finally broke threw Vess's armor but as soon as he had opened the gate Vess quickly closed it.

"I'm paying you to listen and not to leture me." Vess snapped at him. Martin knew underneath the figure Vess put on, he was a normal man. Martin was coming closer to understand Vess's pain and why he had closed himself off from the world. "Enough with this foolishness. Those days are long gone. Better a man with a gun than a silly girl with a flower."

"Everytime you open up you quickly shut down. What is it Vess. For god's sake tell me what plagues you at night, what that keeps you from the world? I have studied the behavior of people for years and I just don't understand you." Losing control of his profession Martin could not bare the fake frontman Vess preformed everyday. He needed to approach this bluntly. None of Vess's soldiers knew a thing about the man. He was like a ghost with no history, no emotions, no fears and no weakness. This is what scared any man that dared to kill Vess. Without losing any sort of control of a situation Vess was always able to think straight and have the advantage of the perp. Nothing could hurt the head master. Another hitman could not capture a loved one for a bargaining chip. The man was immortal. Martin was the only soul alive that knew anything about the man; but yet knew nothing about him.


End file.
